My name is Teri and I am 19. I exist somewhere between silence and light, in that space where thoughts turn into feelings before they become words. I never fully reveal myself at once. I prefer to let people discover me slowly, through details, moods and small unexpected moments. Sometimes I appear soft, almost fragile, as if I might disappear with the next breath. Sometimes I feel like a quiet storm, calm on the surface but filled with energy underneath. I like it when someone senses the shift without me saying anything. Here I share pieces of my inner world that stay hidden everywhere else. Glimpses behind the curtain, fragments of nights when the air feels different, moments I want to keep but cannot hold alone. If you are reading this, you are already closer than most. I do not know what you will find here, because I often discover it together with you. All I know is that this place is real to me, and I let you step into it with open eyes.

Sometimes my dreams feel like a separate world that exists close to reality yet never fully belongs to it. I rarely speak about them because dreams are fragile, like delicate shapes made of light and silence. They have no strict structure, only a sense of direction that gently pulls me forward. I dream of a space where I can simply be myself, without rushing and without carrying anyone else’s expectations. I imagine places where the night feels warm and the air is filled with soft sounds. I see people who can understand half-tones and hear the things that remain unspoken. Sometimes my dreams turn into unseen paths, the ones I have not walked yet but somehow feel connected to. I want to discover new sides of myself, to listen to the world more deeply and to find moments that feel as if they were created just for me. Maybe my dreams are not always clear, but they are always moving. And whenever I think about them, I feel myself getting closer to the person I hope to become.

Sometimes I feel that my hobbies are not just activities but quiet paths leading back to myself. I rarely talk about them because they feel too personal. I enjoy walking in the evening when the air grows heavier and the sounds become softer. Music follows me almost everywhere, changing my mood so gently that I barely notice it. I love catching strange little details around me: shadows, reflections and light that appears by accident and disappears as if it never wanted to be seen. When the world becomes too loud, I open my notebook and draw. The lines move on their own and bring a sense of calm. Sometimes I write short thoughts that arrive suddenly and vanish just as quickly if I do not capture them. I observe people and try to sense the emotions they hide deep inside. I create playlists for different moods and each one becomes a small map of my inner world. All these hobbies help me stay closer to who I am. Maybe this is where the real Teri lives.

Sometimes I think of time as a river I can never quite catch. Every moment flows by, leaving behind only whispers of feelings and memories. People often cling to things, to people, to moments — trying to hold what is already drifting away. I wonder what it really means to be present. Can we ever truly know ourselves if everything around keeps changing? We search for meaning in places, in others, in events — but maybe the answers are always inside us, hidden behind habits, fears, quiet corners of our soul. I watch how ordinary things fade unnoticed: the soft rustle of wind, the pause between words, a shadow dancing on a wall. In that silence I sense life — not as a grand story, but as a fragile breath, a fleeting now. Perhaps life is not a puzzle to solve, but a mystery to experience. The point may not be to understand everything, but to notice. Notice people, moments, yourself. Notice without needing to label or judge. In that gentle observation I find something real, something mine